On computers, catching up and the abruptness of life

OK, I'm back. I'm sorry that I had to leave abruptly, but some family business came up abruptly and had to be dealt with abruptly.

So, all and all, I guess you could say it was abrupt. Abrupt and not much fun, but it had to be done.

I'm not sure what's on your minds lately because I can't get at my e-mails. My work computer finally got too smart for its own good so I had to take it into the tech shop where it is getting, I don't know, teched, I guess. I just hope it learns its lesson this time.

Here's a question that came in by regular mail:

What if we had to purchase sleep like a commodity? Think about it.

No, I don't believe I will think about it. It is a silly question.

I consulted with the Valley 101 staff - Dumb and Dumber - on this matter, and they agreed they didn't want to think about it, either.

Of course D&D are not big thinkers. Aside from eating and pooping and sleeping, they don't tend to have a lot of original thinking, except maybe new imaginary things to bark at around 3 a.m.

So much for the sleep-as-a-commodity thing. I'll have something more substantial tomorrow, provided I get my work computer back.

OK, this is what was so abrupt about last week: My mother died.

She was buried Friday next to my father in one of the hundreds of township cemeteries that dot the Midwest.

It is on a hillside studded with pine trees and the headstones of Civil War veterans and those of children who died of long-forgotten diseases such as diphtheria or scarlet fever.

The hillside looks out for miles over the rolling farm fields of eastern Iowa. It is a very beautiful place.